


A Warrior's Revel

by Forsaker



Series: A Step Ahead of the Hunt [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Facials, Multi, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 09:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forsaker/pseuds/Forsaker
Summary: With the Hunt always on her heels, Ciri learned to appreciate the value of stress relief.





	A Warrior's Revel

Ciri’s blade was dripping with blood as she surveyed the slain fiend whose enormous carcass lay before her. In contrast to a little while ago, the fearsome beast was now completely still, the numerous deep lacerations across its body serving as proof of the prolonged battle. And though many cuts as well as the killing blow had been her own, Ciri could not deny the help of brothers Imald and Larnas afforded her in the whole ordeal. The two Skelligers had been instrumental in keeping the thing distracted as Ciri dashed to and fro, landing each strike with vicious precision, until the monster breathed no more.

“Bloody hell, lass,” Imald, the older one, said between heaving breaths, “you fight like a woman possessed.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Ciri offered with a smile, and just as equally winded.

After a brief rest they slowly made their way back to the camp, as the ashen-hair girl took one glance at her quarry. The contract had been her own of course, but the two Skelligers had met her prior to the fight and demanded that they do their part in slaying the beast. They accepted no share of the bounty after the fact, explaining they would’ve gone after the thing themselves had they but all the expertise of a witcher. Both the brothers and the rest of the villagers gathered around the notice board had at first laughed at her claim of being one (‘Ha! Never ‘eard of a lady witcher before.’). One swift demonstration of her skill with the sword was all it took to silence the doubters and secure her the contract.

Now, as the glow of their fire was appearing over the hillside, it occurred to Ciri how glad she was the Skelligers had been by her side. Not only was the fight a little easier on her, but she won’t have to lug the head of the monster all the way back to the village in order to prove the kill. With that in mind, she offered a share of the bounty yet again, but the brothers refused once more.

The three of them finally sat down by the fireside, laying down their arms and reaching for the flasks of water. Ciri took a few sips to quench her thirst, whereas the Larnas and Imald down a sizeable few gulps before pouring a fair bit more over their faces. The trip back to the village may have been a long one, but Ciri remembered they mentioned some river nearby. So she used up the rest of her own flask, pouring some water over the back of her neck, while using the some more to wash the sheen of perspiration from her face.

“Ah, nothing like the heat of battle to get one’s blood pumpin’, eh Larnas?” the older brother said.

“Quite so, quite so. All the more with a witcher by yer side,” the younger one nodded towards Ciri, raising his flask of water as a make-do toast.

Ciri smiled and returned the gesture, taking another sip.

“The others from your village didn’t seem to feel the same,” she added.

“Bah, damn fools, the lot of them,” Imald scoffed. “Children shoved into a guard’s position simply for coming of age. Drunkards and braggarts passing off as some fierce fighters. And no wonder, with those three fools calling the shots. Village elders they call them. Ha! As if shying away from battle all yer life affords you some wisdom.”

Ciri chuckled at his words, their truthfulness made all the more amusing by Imald’s disgusted expression. She remembered asking the elders for one villager to guide her some of the way and point her in the general direction of the beast, and all the downward glances surrounding her. Even the village guards seemed reluctant to offer any assistance, neither in helping Ciri in the right direction nor in the actual battle. In the end it was Imald and Larnas – woodcutters of all things – that had lent her a hand in battle. Ciri had been reluctant to let mere villagers aid her, but their impressive, muscular physique, coupled with stubborn insistence had made her relent. Fortunately, it had turned out to be the right choice; the last thing the ashen-haired girl wanted was  the blood of village folk on her hands.

Now all that there was left was to return to the village and collect the bounty, and Ciri was glad to note it would prove more than enough to stay at a few inns on her way to see Cerys. The trip, however, would have to wait until dawn.

For now, Ciri was content to listen to the friendly banter between the brothers, and occasionally join the conversation. It turned out they lived outside of the actual village, and didn’t really feel much a part of it. Their late father had maintained friendly relations with the villagers, alleviating most of their lumbering needs. After his passing, the sons carried on doing the same, though far more reluctantly. The relations between the two brothers and village elders had apparently been particularly strained, for ‘defying the ways and customs of the village,’ whatever that meant.

For Ciri’s part, Imald and Larnas seemed far more agreeable then any of the village folk, and having been on the wrong side of people’s judgment many times before, she couldn’t help feeling an affinity for the jovial Skelligers, as well as mild animosity for the people that had hired her. They’re good for the coin at least, Ciri noted. Or they better be. Cowardice and greed often go hand in hand, Ciri found, and she wouldn’t put it past the elders to try tricking her out of the bounty. Imald seemed to imply something in the similar vein, which is why he insisted they follow her back not only to their own hut, but to the elders’ house as well. The ashen-haired girl gladly accepted.

As the wood crackled amidst the burning flame, Ciri listened to the insight the two offered on many of the village inhabitants (Imald doing most of the talking, Larnas being the quieter one). Predictably enough, they held them in no high regard, with the notable exceptions of the fisherman and his family, as well as the local herbalist. The inn was where most of the animosity for the brothers apparently stemmed from, with many brawls marking their disagreements with the regular drunkards there. Ciri laughed at the recounting of a few of those fights, with Imald’s vivid words making it easy to imagine the hilarious scenes.

“We only go occasionally now,” he explained, “The fools have mostly learnt to stay away from us, but one can hardly drink in peace in a tavern full of scowls and ill-concealed mutterings.”

Ciri nodded emphatically, having known much of the same situations in her travels. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for the young girl to mind her own business in a secluded corner of a tavern, only for some arrogant oaf to start eyeing her before propositioning her in what was often a fairly explicit and revolting manner. Familiarizing such men with the business end of her sword was always her response, but soon after she’d attract glares and whispered comments that grew extremely tiresome extremely quickly. Apparently, a girl’s only purpose was to meekly submit to a man, and dutifully spread her legs whenever his manhood needed tending to. But a fighter, with a sword at her side? An unnatural order of things, surely. Not so in Skellige, however. Or at least not in most places there. Women warriors were not a rare occurrence, with the village Ciri had ended up teleporting to being one of the few exceptions.

“I know very well what that’s like,” she offered, “People don’t take kindly to one such as I.”

“Ah, you’re better off, lass. No use getting acquainted with that miserable rabble. Larnas and I concluded as much long ago, and it’s not a problem for the most part. Of course there are times when we wish things were different. Wanting to celebrate the slaying of a vicious beast, for example, as we plan to do now. Not many options when it comes to it, but we make do as best we can.”

“Oh? And how do you plan to celebrate?” Ciri prompted curiously, hoping for another tale of drunken brawls and villager defenestrations.

“Ah, you know – getting drunk off our arses and ploughing lasses, ideally. The latter not always easy to accomplish.”

Ciri’s heart skipped a beat a those words. It wasn’t that she was exactly unfamiliar with carnal matters, certainly not after the several weeks she had spent under Bea’s ‘tutelage’ in Novigrad. She was simply caught off guard by Imald’s casual honesty. And the statement still hung in the air, urging her to respond.

“Is-is that right?” she offered, attempting to sound just as relaxed.

“Aye,” Imald went on. “The village lasses aren’t exactly keen on a little tumble in the barn. By the gods – Skellige women in general, they’re all itchin’ to latch on to you and marry, the moment you look at ‘em with that in mind. And men such as me brother and I aren’t really lookin’ for someone to nag us to death, to be honest. No offense to you or yer kind, lass.”

“No offense taken,” Ciri chuckled. “I’m not exactly the marrying type.”

“Ah, you see, Larnas? Told you she was a smart one. They’re not the same, continental women. Not the same at all. We’ve heard tell of them, me brother and I.”

Ciri has a vague feeling this was not a line of inquiry she ought to be pursuing, but her curiosity was eating away at her.

“What exactly did you hear?”

“That you’re a more... _friendly lot,_ shall we say? That a simple plough is nothing to lose one’s head over, or think it a profession of undying love or some such shite. You can find a lass, shag her senseless and part on friendly terms. Sorceresses in particular, we hear, are a wanton bunch.”

“I know a few sorceresses, actually,” Ciri jumped at the opportunity to sidestep the conversation, only to  foolishly realize what she had implied.

“Ah! You’re familiar with their ways then?”

“N-not too familiar,” Ciri returned with a shy glance downward. Suddenly the fact she was alone in the woods with two ruggedly handsome men dawned on her. A more innocent Ciri would’ve shied away from any such talk, but her friendship with Bea had done away with a more ingénue part of her personality. As it was, only mild feeling of awkwardness permeated her thoughts, though Imald’s casually honest tone alleviated it somewhat. There was no snide undertone of suggestiveness to his voice, nor a hint of a smug smile. He spoke his mind, always. And Ciri had a feeling that openness would work to her favor should any... _decisions_ need making in the very near future.

“Fair enough,” Imald continued, “but you are a continental lass yourself, and you likely know others. We’ve heard tell of the endurance you posses.”

“In battle?” Ciri inquired naively.

“In bed. Sorceress or no, getting ploughed by several men and then walking off as if it were nothing,” he laughed, “is the kind of stuff we hear here. Is there any truth to those tales, lass?”

“Um... some truth, I suppose,” Ciri answered honestly.

“Hah! You see, Larnas? Continental women – marvelous creatures that. And those are just yer common lasses. Imagine what a fighting spirit would do! She’d chew you up and spit you out, she would,” he chuckled. “Isn’t’ that right, lass?”

Caught slightly off guard, Ciri watched him for a couple of seconds before opting for feigning ignorance. “Why ask me?” she said with a non-committal smirk.

“Well, you are a warrior, are you not?”

Ciri considered her answer. In any other circumstance, she would’ve concluded she was being toyed with, insidiously so. But she knew the brothers played no such games. It was refreshing , in way.

“I am.”

“And would you also happen to be in a _celebratory mood_ , by any chance?”

There it was. Not an outright demand for her to bend over, which is what she usually gets from men, but rather a more respectful offer from a fellow warrior. Ciri suddenly felt a little flushed.

“I’m not sure I...” she attempted, but Imald cut her off.

“Bah!” he exclaimed with a jovial grin. “Indecisiveness is for weaklings, lass. And you’re no weakling. Not one to back away from a challenge.”

Ciri looked at him with a confident smile, then glancing over at his brother. He too was smirking, and likewise in an honest, friendly manner. She did like them, there was no denying that. Just as there was no denying that last remark was meant to appeal to her pride and fighting spirit. It worked a little too well, Ciri concluded. Imald’s mannerisms made it clear he would hold no ill will towards her whatever her decision. Still, Ciri opted for one they’d likely appreciate.

“Well... _I am_ a warrior, like you said,” she spoke with a in a clear voice. “But how is a girl to make a decision if she knows not what she’s working with.” A downward glance of her eyes was a message enough and Larnas was quick to jump to his feet and almost comically pull his trousers down.

“Oh you damn fool,” his brother grumbled with his face in hands. “You’ve done ruined everything now.”

Ciri chuckled merrily, the image of the younger man standing there with his trousers down and his member flaccid proving all too hilarious. But she restrained from any further reaction that might prove ridiculing. Rather, she looked down at his manhood and couldn’t help but see potential. If the rest of their physique is anything to go by, she might be in for a rather pleasurable night. With the Hunt always on her heels, Ciri learned to appreciate the value of stress relief.

She bade the younger brother to come near, watching him step out of his britches and walk over to her. With a knowing smirk she glanced up at him, then removing her gloves and focusing her attention lower. She grabbed his member with her right hand and started stroking him, making sure to keep her eyes on his face, just as Bea had instructed her. The value of maintaining eye contact during an intimate act was something she knew well by now, and sure enough, Larnas’ manhood quickly grew erect, to what Ciri found to be a far more agreeable length. Still holding his gaze, Ciri knelt to her feet and slowly drew her tongue up his entire shaft. A restrained groan showed his reaction, which was music to the ears of the ashen-haired girl. She’d always appreciated a vocal affirmation of her efforts.

She slipped his cock-head through her parted lips, then pursing them to better stimulate every part of it. Drawing in a third of his length, she enveloped the rod with a warmth that was clearly getting to him. Tongue at work with every bobbing motion, Ciri sucked him off with practiced skill, relishing his ever-hardening state. Soon enough a trickle of pre-cum was on her tongue, proving to be a welcome, neutral taste to her palate. There was something to be said of the healthy diet of wilderness folk, though Ciri knew she’d only get a full taste of it once he empties himself down her throat. But for now, she did enjoy the feeling of his rod  inside her mouth. The only problem, if that it can be called, was that he seemed rather restrained as she went down on him, likely out of some bizarre sense of respect he had. Ciri did appreciate it, though it seemed a tad misplaced with her lips around his rod.

So remembering what Bea had taught her, she took his hand and placed it at the back of her head, which was a message he immediately understood. He pushed her further down onto his cock, just shy of any actual discomfort on her part, for which she was grateful. She did however feel his now sizable member brush against the back of her throat, which she intermittently relieved when pausing for breath. But just as her own ministrations were getting to him, Larnas’ groans and his hand on her head was having a familiar effect on Ciri. Pleasurable warmth pooled between her thighs, urging her to increase and speed up her efforts. She enveloped his base with both his hands, taking him all the way in until she felt her eyes tear up. Then she'd pull back, as nascent tears were something she usually took as a sign she ought to ease up. Yet mounting passion had a way of disrupting one’s rational thoughts, so she did her best to swallow him whole, an impossible task to be sure, but one she enjoyed in failing. She held him as long as her need for breath allowed, only pulling back once the burning in her lungs drove her to it.

Not the least bit surprised to see the Larnas’ ecstatic face, Ciri applied herself to the task until she felt the telltale motions, grunts and quickened breathing of the man. It was immediately followed by several long spurts of cum at the back of her throat, which the ashen-haired girl swallowed as best she could. A few drops slipped past her lips, and after he removed his cock, Ciri was quick to wipe off the trickle on her chin with fingers that soon found their way into her mouth, where she proceeded to lick them clean.

She glanced up at him with a shy smile, as if to inquire whether she’d been everything he hoped for. If the wide grin Larnas had on was anything to go by, the answer was a resounding yes. He sat on a downed trunk of a nearby tree, as Ciri’s eyes flew to the older brother.

“What did I tell you, Larnas?” he exclaimed with a breathy chuckle. “Warrior women!”

Ciri felt a swell of pride at the compliment, her lips curling into a tiny grin. She fully indented to repeat her performance with Imald as well, though she certainly wouldn’t have minded having her needs taken care of first. Luckily, the older Skelliger seemed to share idea.

“You mind ridding yerself of those clothes, lass?” he said as he started removing his own. Ciri’s heart leapt at the suggestion, and she discarded all she wore in a deliberately unhurried manner. Part of it was to avoid losing the brothers’ respect in seeming too wanton. But she also enjoyed the way they watched as she undressed, slowly revealing the gently muscled flatness of her stomach, her pert breasts, her smooth legs and the tattoo adorning her inner thigh. Imald seemed surprised however, that she had no hair atop of her sex. The reason behind it had been Bea’s insistence and preference for it, which Ciri was eager to indulge. The explanation she now offered was that certain beasts could pick up even the faintest of scent, so keeping herself bare was one less advantage they would have over her. She couldn’t say if Imald found the explanation plausible, because he seemed more interested in picking her up by grabbing her ass and leaning her against a tree.

Ciri felt the head of his hard manhood at her own entrance, before he slowly let gravity do the work for him and letting her slip onto his rod. The ashen-haired girl bit her lips at the pleasure, relishing how her yielding cunt enveloped the welcome intruder. He wasn’t even all the way in, and yet Ciri felt blissfully filled. Pausing for a few moments to let the young woman get used to his girth, Imald then pulled back half of the way, before thrusting back into her. Ciri barely had the time to yelp at the stab of pleasure in her nether region, for the Skelliger was quick to repeat the motion and rut into her once more. He soon established a steady pace, easing into her more and more with each thrust. The slow pace would not last however, and as Ciri began to moan her pleasure in an increasingly wanton manner, Imald sped up his pace to match her desire. She now felt him pounding against her cervix, filling her silky insides, fueling her burning arousal. Her legs gripped him of their own accord as if her body begged to be filled even more. She clawed at his back as he slammed into her, each thrust wresting another moan from her lust-parted lips. It took a moment for her mind to process the words her ears had heard.

“You need me to pull out, lass?”

Oh, right. She’d completely forgotten. There were times she’d envied the infertility of sorceresses, the ability to welcome a man’s seed without worrying about conceiving. Yet in this moment, the thought of her womb being seeded was sickeningly appealing. To be fucked senseless and bred by two warriors... it only turned her on ever more. But whether she ended up going to a herbalist and having her potion or actually daring to consider the alternative was not something that weighed heavily on her mind. That decision was for tomorrow, for a more clear-headed Ciri that would no doubt make the right decision. The one getting ploughed against a tree had only one concern on her mind.

“Gods, no,” she whispered huskily. “Fill me.”

Imald seemed to take her words to heart, rutting into her lithe body with all his might. His muscles rippled from the effort, he held her ass while repeatedly sinking into her with strained grunts.

They came simultaneously, like stars aligning, and Ciri felt her spastic cunt milk long hot spurts straight into her welcoming depths. She grinned as the orgasm crashed over her, her flooded womb yielding to the liquid onslaught. Imald remained imbedded in her for the longest time, the mixture of his and Ciri’s own juices dripping down beneath them. When he began to soften, he pulled out, and that unpleasant feeling of emptiness was the only thing that detracted from Ciri’s pleasure. If it had been possible, she would’ve gladly had him inside her the whole night, flooding her sore womanhood to overflowing. Well, she noted with a wry smile, at least they have the overflowing part taken care of.

Ciri slumped down the tree and onto the grass, basking in the orgasmic afterglow and smiling throughout.

Some time during all of that, Larnas had put a few more logs on the fire, which was now blazing anew. As for the man, he too was now nude, sitting near the downed trunk with an inquiring look.

Ciri only barely spread her legs, the suggestive gleam in her eyes, making the message even clearer. She wondered whether the younger Skelliger would balk at venturing where his brother has just been, but when he laid Ciri on the grass with a hungry look to him, she got her answer.

It came almost as a relief, when he aimed at her entrance and entered her fully. Ciri drew a shaky exhale, welcoming the feeling of fullness that was now hers again. It was almost as if her body was telling her this was her natural state: Mind lust-addled, legs wantonly spread, fertile womb repeatedly seeded.

At the moment, she had absolutely no problems with the notion.

The younger brother began to plough into her as well, and though he lacked a bit of strength and even girth of his sibling, Ciri relished each second of it.

“By the gods,” he said, “you’re the tightest cunt I’ve even had.”

Ciri’s eyebrows furrowed at the words, some weak semblance of offense and indignation mostly offset by the rod ravaging her insides.

“I appreciate the compliment,” she half-joked sarcastically, “but call me a cunt one more time and I’ll cut your balls off.”

He slowed down all of a sudden, his face laced with regret.

“R-right, sorry. I didn’t meant to...”

“It’s alright,” she assuaged with a friendly smile. She knew only too well how easy it was to lose oneself in the grip of ecstasy. “ But I only said to stop calling me a cunt, not cease ruining mine – that is, if you’re up to the task.”

He took her words as a challenge, gripping her thighs and forcing his rod to the hilt, then repeating each thrusting motion with admirable vigor. The squelching wet sounds filled the area around the campfire, his rutting driven onward by Ciri’s lustful gaze. When he unloaded inside her she instinctively grabbed hold of his form, welcoming each spurt of seed in her perspiring body. She didn’t cum that time, but as he pulled out and lay beside her, Ciri still enjoyed the aftermath of their coupling, the leaking juices trickling out her body.

Their breathing returned to normal and they lay there for a while, recovering. Of course, Ciri was the first ready for a second round, though not sure if her fellow warriors were up to the task yet. So she decided to egg them on.

“Is that it then? And here I thought you celebrated by shagging women senseless.”

“Oh, that wasn’t enough was it?” Imald smirked at her.

“Don’t get me wrong, it was very nice. But as you can see, I’m still in possession of all my senses.”

“Well, there are more than one ways to solve that little problem, assuming some other tales we’ve heard you are true.”

Ciri resisted grinning and rolling her eyes. “What tales are these now?”

“Taking on two men at once, as it were. Surely a warrior such as yourself would easily accomplish such a feat, eh, lass?”

Ciri grinned unwittingly at the suggestion. Serves me right, she thought. Her own teasing had come back to bite her in the ass, literally. Well, she couldn’t very well go back on it now. Though she wasn’t quite ready to bend over just like that.

“Just who do you take me for, Skelliger?” she challenged with an inward smile. “A common whore?”

“By the gods, never, lass!” he exclaimed honestly. “I’ve only meant to suggest the most efficient way of tending to your needs, that’s all.”

“And you assume I’m someone who finds pleasure in being taken in such a manner?” she teased, her face still largely expressionless.

“I assume no such thing, lass. However you choose to find pleasure is fine by me.”

She finally allowed herself a grin at his words, content in his tiptoeing around offending her. Perhaps toying with him a little was petty, but she couldn’t help herself. And she did plan to reward him for it as recompense.

“Alright then,” Ciri acquiesced to the proposal. “Let’s see how _efficient_ the two of you are.”

“Right,” Imald nodded. “Well I thought Larnas would have you from the back and...”

“No,” she cut him off, immediately being able to tell what he was doing. He would have his brother take her arse because of his smaller girth. But Ciri didn’t need or want to be coddled; the notion they’d need to go easy on her was a disagreeable one. And she’ll be damned if the prospect of the older man lodged in her back orifice was something  she’d cower away from. She was a warrior, after all. “ _You’ll_ have me there.”

He seemed impressed by her decisiveness and simply waited of Ciri to straddle him, with her back to his face. She scooped some of the seed streaking her thighs, then plunging two fingers into her anus to coat her insides. Imald’s manhood seemed lubricated enough on its own, but Ciri knew there was no such thing as being too prepared.

Carefully angling her body, she lowered herself with care, until she felt the tip of his mostly hard cock press against her anus. He held her hips to help her efforts, and after a few seconds the tip of his manhood slipped into her puckered orifice. She bit her lower lip at the sensation, giving herself a bit of time to get used to the feeling (just as Bea had taught her) before gingerly proceeding to lower herself further. She’d made it half way, before pausing, breathing deeply as the feeling of fullness in her bowels settled into something almost agreeable. Then getting tired of her little balancing act propped up by Imald’s hands, she grit her teeth and impaled herself on the massive rod, grunting at the flash of pain it brought. The lubrication had done its job however, and the unpleasant sensation had been only momentary. Already the notion that the rugged man was buried to the hilt inside her rectum was making her horny.

She took several breaths to steady herself, then lifted herself off of him a fraction of the way before descending anew. The position was not too comfortable, but for the moment Ciri wanted to get used to having her arse plundered before she took his brother as well. In no time at all, Imald was fully, almost painfully erect and he helped her through a few thrusts by lifting her half of the way. After that she made up her mind, and she lay back onto his torso to alleviate the awkward position, with his cock still very much inside her. She gave the younger brother a ‘come hither’ gesture, her legs spreading as an invitation to make use of her body.

Larnas descended and got into position, angling his member at her dripping entrance before plunging in with a quick thrust. Ciri sighed at the blissful feeling, relishing the sensation of two sizable cocks lodged inside her and separated by a thin wall of flesh. As they began to move, she was taken aback by how strangely good it all felt, each incremental motion registering as if reinforced by her mind. She relaxed  and let them take her, steadily fucking her with alternating motions – when Larnas pulled back, Imald would thrust in, their cocks scraping against each other over the thin membrane separating them. That feeling alone was enough to drive Ciri wild, but when Imald grabbed her petite breasts with his hands, kneading the tender flesh while rutting into her, Ciri couldn’t help moaning aloud, her wanton cries echoing through the forest.

The ashen-haired girl surrendered to the passionate revel, her slender body sandwiched between the two men. Her muscles tensed as they fucked her, with a sheen of sweat now dotting her fare skin. She had no awareness of the blissful grin on her face, nor of the whorish sounds she was making. Beyond each tactile sensation her mind was struggling to process, her one desire and wish was for the men to take their pleasure with her however they wanted, for as long as they wanted it. Images of the most obscene ideas appeared in her thoughts, scenarios that a more clear-headed Ciri would’ve blushed from. Now, she yearned for each of them to come true, for the dawn to find her with a body ravaged and a mind completely broken.

For their part, the two brothers seemed to share her wish. The fucked just as they did battle – hard and without mercy. What little consideration for Ciri’s comfort they had was largely gone and they were now pleasuring her not as fellow warrior, but violating her as the cheapest of whores. If Ciri’s moans were anything to go by, the rough treatment of her body was more than welcome.

They kept at it until Ciri could take no more, her pathetic whimpering signaling the orgasm which they both followed. Each brother unleashed a torrent of cum deep inside her, one dousing her womb anew while the other flooded her bowels. Ciri’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, the electric pleasure ripping from her cunt, ass and painfully squeezed tits to completely annihilate her senses. In no time at all she was reduced to a quivering, orgasmic mess of a woman, her sole purpose in life to experience this otherworldly ecstasy.

With the sensory overload taking its toll, she slipped into unconsciousness and lost herself to the world.

When her eyes fluttered open, she looked up to see the two brothers kneeling by her side, their stroking cocks aimed right at her face. She barely had the time to realized her unconsciousness must’ve lasted a while – since they were both hard – before Imald spoke to his brother.

“Shall we crown the princess, Larnas?”

It took a moment for Ciri to process what they meant by that, but when she did, she decided to allow it. The ultimate reward, she thought, both for their help and for treating her to this amazing experience. She tilted her chin upward, the smile on her face making it clear they had her permission. No sooner had she done that than did the first strand of cum land over her face, sealing her left eye shut. Ciri didn’t even flinch, and welcomed each subsequent burst of semen landing over her nose, her lips, her chin... Just as she thought it over, the other man emptied himself as well. With her other eye now plastered with cum as well, Ciri opened her mouth and angled her head to try catching at least some of the white liquid. A few spurts did land on her tongue, and she swallowed it up before grinning her contentedness. She slumped on the grass with the two brothers who did the same, and drifted off the a pleasant dream.

 

*

 

When she finally came to, Ciri was struck by a feeling of confusion. It took her a few moments to realize her state, to remember the previous night and why she now had trouble opening her eyes. She tried clearing some of the goop from her glazed face, which was luckily deposited there to such an amount it had not completely dried up. Having managed to open her eyes, she weakly propped herself up and surveyed her surroundings.

Dawn was just breaking, with the hint of gold shining through the occasional break in the foliage above. The fire had gone out of course, but there was enough light to see around the camp. The two brothers still slept beside her, with the image of Larnas’ now flaccid manhood drawing a guilty giggle from Ciri’s lips. Well, at least his erect state was more than impressive, she reflected.

The ashen-haired girl stood up gingerly, taking stock of her condition. Her tits still felt tender and sore, to say nothing of her dripping cunt and arse. The tattoo on her inner thigh was barely visible through the dried up cum, and without the onslaught of ecstasy robbing her of all reason, she felt a little disgusted by the way she looked.

So she made her way to the nearby river, making effort to walk only on thick patches of grass. When the sound of a running stream reached her, she aimed her gait toward it, eager to clean herself as best she could. The water would probably be icy, she knew, but it was a matter of small concern to a warrior like her.

She knelt by the river and filled her hands with the clear liquid, splashing her face a few times before cleaning it more thoroughly. Just as she was about to enter the stream to wash up properly, a sudden sound behind her caught Ciri’s attention.

Looking over the nearby shrubbery, she thought she saw a motion in one of the bushes, though now it was completely still. There was no chance it was either of the brothers, they weren’t the kind to skulk around like that. Whoever it was, Ciri had left her sword at the camp so she was left with only one option.

“Show yourself,” she bellowed.

The second she spoke, the foliage of the bush moved to reveal a timid-looking figure of a young woman. For a few moments Ciri didn’t recognize her, but a few steps forward revealed the identity of her would-be stalker.

“Sylvi?”

The village herbalist nodded meekly, keeping her eyes downward as she approached.

“I beg your apology, miss. I did not mean to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?” Only a year or two younger than herself, Sylvi was one of the rare people from the village who had left a positive impression on Ciri during her stay there. But she still didn’t seem the type to trek this far out and, more importantly, near the fiend they’d been hunting.

“Oh, I... I was gathering herbs nearby, miss. And I happened to overhear some terrible screams, so snuck closer to investigate.”

Ciri knew that to be a lie, of course. The only screams had been her own, and they were not exactly recent. So unless the girl had been watching them for the better part of the night, she was not being exactly honest.

Ciri watched the girl for a few moments, glancing over the drab dress offset by beautifully curly blond hair and mesmerizing azure eyes. And it was the eyes, as intermittently as they could be seen before the girl glanced down, that had granted Ciri a sudden clarity.

 _Analyze her body language,_ she remembered Bea’s words from when her redheaded friend bade her to seduce a girl visiting the inn.

So she did so here.

A demure, shy stance, eyes almost always lowered, at least when Ciri didn’t catch them glancing at the mess streaking her thighs. If the faintest blush of the girl’s face had not been enough, the brief lip bite when the girl dare to glance again certainly would’ve made up Ciri’s mind.

She strolled casually to the girl, not the least bit embarrassed over the nature of her state. Upon reaching her, Ciri tilted the girl’s chin up for their eyes to meet eyes for a short instant, before the girl looked away again. By the gods, Ciri thought. The latent submissive nature of the girl appealed to her greatly.

“Sylvi... would you like to help me clean up?”

“Oh!” the girl perked up, “Of course. Let me just fetch some water and I...” she trailed off when Ciri’s hand snaked up her golden tresses.

“I don't recall mentioning water,” Ciri told with a confident gaze, and with no perceived resistance to change her mind, she gently pushed the girl to her knees.

 

 


End file.
